


One Door Closes...

by VeniVediVici



Category: The Avengers, Thor - Fandom
Genre: Crossover, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-22
Updated: 2014-06-22
Packaged: 2018-02-05 17:01:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,615
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1825642
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VeniVediVici/pseuds/VeniVediVici
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Darcy Lewis, a free-wheeling woman confident in her sexuality, gets locked out of her apartment by a lover. Bruce Banner, a local physicist discovers her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	One Door Closes...

Darcy Lewis was a fierce and independent woman, and aside from knowing that fact, she also didn’t give a damn what people thought about her or what she did. It didn’t matter if people stared at her ample body in a form-fitting blouse, multiple layers of cozy sweaters, or shorts that reached her mid-thighs, Darcy didn’t care. They were just jealous of her security in her body and how she looked in whatever she wore. And that also applied to how she lived her life, and who she let into it; Darcy was very comfortable in the idea of choosing an attractive, decent-mannered person, inviting them into her bed and then going their separate ways. It might seem like an odd way of going about life, what with the emphasis on getting an education, settling down, having a family, but when had Darcy ever been normal? Her hero growing up had been a fictional stone monument, for crying out loud! She didn’t need a cookie-cutter life.

Having one night stands was a pretty okay way of living, she thought. Except when they didn’t want to leave and locked you out of your own damn apartment.

Such as it was late one November night, when she’d invited a tall, broad-shouldered man with long fingers suitable for all kinds of sinful activities and corded muscles running beneath the skin of his lean torso. 

He’d seemed like a nice enough guy with sincere green eyes and a smile that reached those eyes. There wasn’t any pressure for anything more than what she was willing to give, and that had been the clincher for Darcy. If there was anything she valued most in a person, it was the ability to respect her choices. So, she’d invited him home and was up all night long with him browsing through the pages of a certain love book and testing them out.

All in all, it was a good time and she’d made a mental note to add him to her list of lovers who had a possibility of an encore. Until she asked him to leave, that is. He’d reacted badly, striding from the bed naked as the day he was born, thrashing his arms about in disbelieving gestures, and in a split second decision, Darcy had thrown off her clothes— a pair of boy shorts and a camisole— and walked out of the apartment, hoping that he’d follow and be shamed into leaving. 

Otherwise, she would’ve been forced to make a call to the police, though she hadn’t had much faith that that would have done anything.

And what had he done? Slammed the door behind her and locked it, leaving Darcy shivering out in the cold Massachusetts fall night.

Not her smartest move by any definition.

Now all Darcy could do to make him see reason was to slam her fists into the door repeatedly, screaming all sorts of obscenities because damn it, the bastard deserved it. She even shook it up by ramming her shoulders into the door and giving a half-hearted kick. It was to no avail, for Bastard--as he was henceforth to be known— simply ignored her cries, locked the windows and turned up the television volume.

Was this seriously happening to her right now? Was it seriously?

“Darcy? What’s going on?” She heard a sleepy, distinctly male voice call out from about a hundred yards away, and turned to see Bruce Banner, the local bachelor physicist standing in the doorway of his apartment, hands gripping the frame in nothing but a pair of cartoon boxers. Her mouth opened slightly as she took in the forty-five year old’s salt-and-pepper short haircut, four-day-old stubble growing on his strong jaw and the body that was always hidden beneath button-up shirts and slightly baggy pants. Why on earth would he want to do something like that? He looked gorgeous! No, that wasn’t the right word, Darcy thought. He looked damn sexy, covered from jaw to ankle in thick, coarse dark curls, not overly muscular like most of the men that splashed the pages of the magazines, but more in a ‘I workout but I’m okay with not having a sixpack’ sort of way. She liked that he wasn’t vain or arrogant, but sweet in a shy sort of way. Bruce was most definitely not like ‘the Bastard’ was.

“Oh, you know, just the usual.”

He rubbed the sleep out of his eyes and stifled a yawn. “What?”

“I got locked out of my apartment by yet another guy who just wouldn’t get the hint,” Darcy sighed, crossing her arms over her chest in an attempt to beat the chill that was seeping into her body.

“There’s someone in your apartment?” Bruce asked in disbelief.

“Yeah, isn’t there someone in yours?”

“No… e-except for me, there isn’t anyone.”

“That’s sucks,” She said, giving him a smirk. “It’s a lot of fun having someone else in your house, except WHEN THEY FUCKING LOCK YOU OUT OF YOUR OWN FUCKING APARTMENT!” The last part was screamed against the door. Of course there was no response given.

“Darcy, maybe you should come inside before you get hypothermia,” Bruce said, placing a hand on her upper arm. She startled, but not because she was objecting to his touch; a pleasant shock had leaped from his hand to her arm and spread throughout her body, giving a warm and tingling sensation to every pore. She suddenly didn’t care if she got hypothermia. If it meant staying like this — with Bruce’s hand forever placed on her body— than Darcy could die a happy woman. “It’s too cold to be standing out on the street in those clothes.”

“What about you? Those cute little boxers have got to make you colder than my pajamas,” She teased, enjoying his cheeks and the tips of his ears turn a bright red. So it turns out that brooding, sulky Dr. Bruce Banner was actually hiding a shy, mushy inner self. God, that was sexy. Not to mention that once she asked if he was cold, his boxers appeared to get just a little bit tighter.

“I’m not cold.” He murmured, letting go of Darcy’s arm like it was a white-hot iron that had burned him. Bruce began to walk back over to his apartment and stopped in the doorway, looking back over his shoulder at Darcy. She was disappointed to see that the tent was gone. Of course, that was easily solvable. “Are you coming?”

With a deliciously wicked thrill going through her chest, Darcy gingerly walked across the ice cold concrete and into the warm, cluttered living room that Bruce Banner called home. He walked over to a lamp on a end table and flicked the switch on, giving the cluttered room a cozy feel. Darcy turned slowly, taking in the stacks upon stacks of books lining the living room wall; there were thick physics and advanced mathematics books that she’d expected would be there considering his profession, but she also saw that his taste in literature went beyond just formulas. He had dog-eared books of all genres crammed into the three tall bookcases that were across from the ratty couch, including young adult books, cheesy sci-fi and a romance novel or two that she herself owned.

That was good news, Darcy thought to herself.

“Darcy, are you sure you’re all right?” She looked over to see that while she was busy admiring the massive book collection Bruce owned, he’d gone into his bedroom to pull on a blue plaid robe and was currently in the process of tying the sash into a knot. A good portion of his admirable chest was still visible, and it took everything Darcy had to tear her eyes away to make eye contact. His soft brown eyes were kind and trusting and filled with concern for her well-being, and it struck her that unlike most of the neighbors in the complex, he wasn’t making any undue judgements about her sex life or choice of lovers. “If you want, I could call someone to come help you, or get the guy out of there.”

He reached over to pick up the phone from its charging dock, but Darcy reached out and took his hand instead; Bruce’s eyes widened visibly. “Darcy?”

She stepped closer, invading the personal bubble that her elementary school had taught her about once. “Don’t call anyone, okay? Nobody’ll understand.”

He swallowed. “Why won’t anyone understand?”

Darcy tilted her head and looked down at their feet, so close that she could feel the warmth of his skin seeping into hers. “I’ve been burned a few times before with one night stands, and sometimes people think you deserve it. I may not care what they think about me or what I do, but if I know they don’t approve of my life, I tend not to fucking bother anymore, you know what I mean?”

Bruce gave a humorless chuckle. “Yeah, I think I understand how that feels.”

She looked up at his face— weather-lined from fatigue and life beating him down, the short and unkempt way he kept his hair, which gave one the impression that he’d been burned a few too many times and maintaining the appearance that he wasn’t one to get too close to— and saw a kindred spirit in the lonely brown eyes.

“You’ve had lovers kick you out of your own house before?” She quipped, aiming to steer the conversation out of the serious downward spiral it was in.

That got a genuine laugh out of him. “No, that I can say hasn’t happened to me. But I have had a lover break my heart before, so I never get my hopes up about anyone interested in me.”

“Or vice versa?”

“Ah… that’s more difficult to say. There’s only two women that I’ve ever had an interest in and they’ve been interested in me. One ended in heartbreak.”

Darcy felt the electricity and heat emanating from Bruce’s body. They’d stepped flush against each other during the past few minutes; she could feel each and every hard line of his chest, the soft curly chest hair tickled against her upper chest, his heart was beating fast against her body, and a hardness against her lower stomach let her know just who the other woman Bruce spoke of was. And yet, she still had to ask, just to make sure that what she was about to do wouldn’t be rebuffed.

“And the other?” She said softly, leaning closer to Bruce’s face. It involved her going up on her tiptoes, which in turn caused her body to brush up against a very sensitive part of Bruce’s anatomy. He let out a soft, almost inaudible groan. She returned to standing flat on her feet, and waited for the answer.

“Do you have to ask?” He sighed in amusement.

Game on, she thought.

“Hmm…” Darcy mused, and gave a quick roll of her hips against his, receiving the same result. “I guess not, but still, a girl likes to know she’s wanted.”

“You want to know if I want you?” He asked, seemingly in disbelief that she would be potentially questioning his feelings of desire.

“Well, do you?”

Bruce leaned his head back, eyes fixed to a point somewhere on the ceiling. Darcy spared a quick glance up at the ceiling, completely missing the physicist's brown eyes darken further. When she returned her focus to Bruce, he ducked his head in what she thought was an attempt to kiss her, and it would’ve been a good one, if their noses hadn’t collided. Darcy stepped back, holding her nose while Bruce looked horrified that his move hadn’t worked.

“Oh, my god, I’m so sorry,” He said, reaching out in an attempt to comfort her before thinking better of it and withdrawing his hands. “I swear that wasn’t what I meant to do.”

She rubbed her nose a couple of times, checked for any sign of blood and shrugged. “Hey, no harm, no foul. Just give me a warning next time you try to kiss me, all right? I have this flawless physique to maintain, you know.” She swept a hand down her body to prove her point.  
It made Bruce laugh, if you could call it that. She thought it sounded more like the crossing of a person choking and one of those noises someone would make if they found a vintage Batman comic book. “You’d want me to try again? After what I just did?” He shook his head, more to himself than to Darcy.

“Well, yeah, why the hell not? You look like you kiss decently, and that probably would’ve been a good one.” She said bluntly, not liking the way he was retreating from her. They’d been doing so well, what with the barest hint of foreplay that had been going on just moments ago.

“But I missed!” He said in embarrassed protest.

“So? Lots of people miss. That’s what normal people do, otherwise it’d be unexciting porn.”

Bruce just smiled happily at Darcy, and in that moment, she felt sorry that he’d gone for so long all alone, while she’d been parading a steady stream of lovers through her door, not that she’d apologize for that. She just wished they’d gotten to this point a lot sooner.

Instead, all she did was reach up and grasp his face between her hands and pull him down for their first kiss. It was warm, his lips slightly chapped from the dry fall air, but it was every bit as good as she’d imagined it would be. His hands found their place on her hips, and as their mouths parted, he pulled her flush against his body and really got into the kiss. He drank in Darcy as if he were a man dying of thirst, and seemed to revel in finding new angles to kiss her. Hell, she was revelling in it as much as he was; Darcy’s hands reached past his face to claw at his back, twisting the fabric in her fists. Bruce’s hands roamed over her back, fingers hooking underneath her camisole and pulling for a second before sliding down to dip beneath the elastic lining of her shorts.

“Oh, Darcy,” He sighed into her mouth. “You’re something.” Bruce slid his face down to the space between her neck and shoulder and gave it a gentle kiss. She grinned wickedly and tilted her head to give him further access to her neck, and for a moment, wondered if his kisses would leave a mark. She’d be disappointed if there weren’t any. Judging by the way his lips were worshiping her skin, gently nipping and sucking at the junction of her shoulder. A warm tingle rushed through Darcy’s body at the sensation of his shorn hair rubbing against her cheek. She slid a hand over his hair, letting her nails scrape lightly at his scalp.

“A good something?” She gasped, arching into his body. Bruce’s hands had been roaming over every inch of skin hidden by her clothing, and one had slid down her stomach and touched her.

Bruce hummed against the hollow of her throat, and Darcy could feel him smiling.   
“What do you think?”

“Are you ever gonna give me an answer?” She felt restless and needy, like she couldn’t get enough of Bruce, as if she needed him to dig under her skin and never, ever leave. Darcy had felt a lot of lust and pleasure during her adult life, but for some reason, he was different. Bruce was different. Everything was maximized ten-fold, and hitching a leg over his right hip didn’t help matters. If anything, the arousal coursing through every nerve in Darcy’s body increased as their bodies rubbed together in a sensual dance. She arched her back and leaned backwards as far as she could without becoming too uncomfortable.

Bruce’s breath came fast against her chest, and she was sure that her heart was beating as fast as a mouse’s. He reached up and pushed the straps of her top down her shoulders and pulled down her top until her breasts were exposed to him. “You are the best something I’ve ever had the pleasure of knowing.”

Darcy pulled her leg down and gently put a hand against his chest; Bruce took this the wrong way and stepped a few steps back, looking skittish all of a sudden and not at all the man she’d had kissing her a few moments ago. “What’s wrong?”

“We, um, this was probably a bad idea, is a bad idea.”

The words were like a slap to the face. “Wait, what? Why would you fucking say that it’s a bad idea?” Now Darcy was getting angry at Bruce’s sudden change of heart, and hell, she was still feeling aroused and that was never a good combination. “I thought you cared about me!”

“I do!” He said anxiously, his eyes wide with emotion. “I do care about you, more than I dared hope. But Darcy, you have to understand, I’m so much older than you. You’re only, what, twenty-five, twenty-six?”

“Twenty-seven, not that it makes any difference. I don’t care how old you are, Bruce.” She said, moving to stand in front of him. “I don’t care. God damn it, Bruce, I just want you without all of the fucking society crap that you’re spouting right now. Bruce, please… please don’t act like an idiot right now.”

Bruce stood against the wall for several moments, looking conflicted and slightly terrified. Darcy was well aware of the social stigmas that went along with being a younger woman involved with an older man, but she’d never been one to follow any sort of rule, just ask her third grade teacher.

“You won’t regret any of this?”

“I’ve never regretted a thing in my life,” She said, and pulled Bruce down for another kiss, mirroring her actions of minutes ago. “Especially this.”

The spark shot from her lips to his, and infused them both with an intense need to be as close as possible. Darcy arched like a cat into Bruce’s body; his hands slid down the curve of her butt, and she took that as her cue to leap up, and he caught her easily. Her legs locked around his back, ankles crossing to keep her there. Bruce smiled into their kiss and attacked her jawline with peppered kisses. Darcy threw her head back and gave a guttural moan, made even more animalistic by the pressure on her throat.

If Bruce was as good a physical lover as he was at foreplay, then DAMN, she was going to be sore tomorrow!

Bruce whirled around and began walking deeper into his apartment past a small kitchen, a matchbox bathroom and into a dark bedroom, all the while kissing frantically with clacking teeth and combative tongues. Then he withdrew from the kisses, looking glassy-eyed and positively debauched with swollen lips and tossed Darcy backwards onto the bed. She squealed from the shock of it, and then gave Bruce her best bedroom eyes. He forcefully swallowed, and she could see that his boxers had developed a bigger tent than before.

Then something caught Darcy’s attention out of the corner of her eye, and a lustful idea popped into her mind. Yes, she was going to have a lot of trouble walking tomorrow.

Darcy got up off the bed and strode over to Bruce’s closet, peeling off her camisole as she went. The breeze on her ample chest felt pleasant after the frantic kissing produced heat from a moment ago. She bent down slowly, giving Bruce an eyeful of her equally endowed backside--a small whimper sounded--and selected what she’d noticed: two ties, perfect for a bit of rough sexual pleasure.

“Get on the bed, against the headboard,” She said firmly, turning around to show Bruce just what was ahead for them. His eyes widened, and for a moment Darcy worried that this night wouldn’t go very well after the introduction of the ties, but he nodded and placed a knee on the bed, about to crawl to the head of the bed. “Wait, take off your clothes.”

Bruce shed his boxers without question, never taking his eyes off of hers. Darcy bit her lip to suppress a wanton moan at the sight of Bruce’s fully erect member, not too long but thick enough to make sex interesting. She pointed towards the headboard in a waving motion, unable to find her voice to say what she wanted; he obliged willing, and Darcy was forced to bite her fist at the sight of his swaying backside. It, too, was covered in a coarse layer of curls.

Once he was settled against the headboard, Darcy walked over to the side of the bed and took a wrist, tying it to the headboard frame. She repeated the process with the other wrist after motioning for him to scoot towards the middle, and when she was finished, Darcy stood at the foot of the bed and surveyed her work. Bruce’s breathing came in rapid, heavy breaths, and he was standing at full attention; it quivered and twitched spasmodically, reacting to whatever thoughts were racing through Bruce’s mind.

“You like what you see?” She asked coyly, sliding her hands from her breasts down her body; his dazed nodding prompted Darcy to hook her fingers in her shorts and remove them slowly.

“Darcy, come here already, will you?” Bruce called out to her, pulling against his restraints gently. “Please, I need you.”

She smirked. Quite a turnaround from earlier when he’d been hesitant to pursue a physical relationship with her, but hey, she could work with this Bruce much easier than the other one. Darcy obliged, crawling up onto the bed and inching her way to the headboard, thoroughly enjoying the pleasure-pained look Bruce was giving her. 

Her naked body dragged against his,providing each with growing feelings of arousal; he was certainly becoming more erect with every moment that passed.

Finally, Darcy reached the head of the bed and gave Bruce a languid kiss. Their breaths came fast and heavy, letting their need speak for itself that way.

“Ready?” She asked in a whisper. When he nodded, she took a guess and pulled open the top drawer of his bedside table; a lone condom sat there in a shiny green wrapper. She held it up questioningly. “How old is this? I’m on the pill, so it’s no big deal if it’s too old, but you probably want protection against any diseases.”

Bruce swallowed, brows furrowed in thought. “It’s, uh, not that old. Maybe a couple months old. Woman from my work came over for dinner, had ideas, but it didn’t work out. So I kept it for some reason.”

It would’ve bothered any other woman that he’d kept a condom brought by another woman, but Darcy didn’t see the point of getting annoyed. It would not only ruin the whole mood, but could also possibly ruin their friendship, or whatever this would become.

She unwrapped the condom and set it against the head, and slowly unfurled it down his length. It felt amazing to touch him like this, even if it was through a latex layer.

“Darcy,” Bruce gasped, bucking lightly against her hands. “Oh god, hurry.”

She threw a leg over his hips, and held herself over him. After Darcy was fairly certain that she was almost directly in position, she slowly lowered herself onto Bruce’s erection, feeling the head slide inside her body. She threw her head back as she did so, mouth open in a silent gasp of pleasure. Bruce thrashed against his bindings, hips aching to thrust all the way into her, but somehow he held back, she marveled. Not many of her past lovers had ever been able to do so.

A moment later, their hips touched flesh to flesh, and the two quivered silently with the overwhelming pleasure coursing through their bodies. Time slowed down, and it felt as though her blood had become molten lava, rushing through her veins and sluggishly moving all at once.

"You feel so amazing, Bruce." She sighed, holding his hands against her chest. He must feel her racing heart. If the pulsing sensation against her inner walls was any indication, than his heart was beating a mile a minute as well.

He smiled a goofy smile. "You're even better. You feel even better around me, holding me."

Darcy chuckled, a deep throaty sound that caused Bruce to twitch. "Then you'd better get moving."

He leaned forward as far as he could to   
capture her mouth in a kiss, their tongues swirling and exploring, setting a map for encounters to come. His hips began to thrust in a slow yet steady rhythm, grunts pouring into her mouth with every movement. She dug her fingernails into his upper arms, bracing herself against the frantic rhythm of their moving bodies.

Darcy's moans and little cries of pleasure were the only sounds in the room, apart from the smacking of sweat-slicked flesh. Bruce's mouth searched and roamed from her mouth, down her neck and found its place on her right breast. He enveloped her right breast as much as he could, sucking and swirling the nipple with his tongue. Every few licks, Bruce pulled back, surveyed his work and attacked the other breast.

A knot was forming low in Darcy's belly, signaling that her orgasm was not too far off, so to hurry herself along, she reached down and began to stroke herself as Bruce's member withdrew and reentered over and over again.

"God, that's incredible," Bruce moaned, eyes trained on the junction where their bodies were joined. His hands were clenched in tightly balled fists, muscles in his forearm standing out in stark contrast.

"You like that, huh?" She panted as she rode him just as hard as he was thrusting up into her. "Just wait until next time." Darcy bit her lip as she probed herself with two fingers, feeling every bit of Bruce.

"Next time?" He said, his eyes squeezed shut in apparent anticipation of his own orgasm.

Darcy hummed her affirmation and teased herself a little more forcefully before the rubber band inside her snapped and a torrent of pleasure washed through her body. She screamed, a long, keening sound; her inner walls tightened around Bruce, causing his hips to thrust even faster. He grunted, and then tossed his head back, smacking it into the headboard.

A rush of warmth inside her signaled his release, and after a few moments, the little shock waves going through her own body ceased and she slumped bonelessly against Bruce's chest. The two breathed heavily for a few minutes, drawing the strength to move from each other. Then Bruce cleared his throat and said: "Can you untie me so I can get rid of this condom?"

She whined against his chest. "I don't wanna move."

He chuckled. "Be that as it may, Darcy, but I'd really like to hold you."

Sighing, Darcy reached up and untied the ties, feeling entirely too relaxed to move very much; Bruce sat up and pulled off the condom, depositing it into the trashcan next to the bed, and pulled the blankets up to their waists. Then his arms wrapped Darcy and pulled her into his side. She sighed in contentment, and snuggled against his hair-covered chest.

Darcy Lewis had no idea what was going to happen now, whether she and Bruce had a future together, but all she knew was that she'd never been more glad to have been locked out of her apartment.


End file.
